


Dreaming With A Broken Heart

by wildcatlizzie



Series: Mended Hearts [6]
Category: Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcatlizzie/pseuds/wildcatlizzie
Summary: “Chris, I need you to stop talking for a minute,” she told him firmly. “I had a dirty needle stick. They put me on the first cargo plane back to Atlanta.”He stayed quiet, the gravity of her words sinking in; every nightmare he’d had while she was gone started this way to some extent.“I’ve been exposed,” she confirmed. “I’m at Emory under quarantine.”
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Mended Hearts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590325
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	Dreaming With A Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation from "Heartbreak Warfare." While both pieces can stand on their own, this one might make more sense if you've read "Heartbreak Warfare" first.
> 
> "When you're dreaming with a broken heart,  
> The waking up is the hardest part  
> You roll out of bed and down on your knees  
> And for a moment you can hardly breathe  
> Wondering was she really here  
> Is she standing in my room?  
> No, she's not  
> 'Cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone"
> 
> \-- Dreaming With A Broken Heart, John Mayer

_July  
15 months since Abby’s death_

Chris blindly reached for his phone as it rang. He cracked an eye open long enough to read 2:45 A.M. on the clock beside his bed. Grabbing hold of the offending object, he rolled over onto his back and connected the call.

“Hello?” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Chris?” Kaitlyn’s voice came over the line sounding small and defeated.

“Katie?” he responded, sitting up and looking at the clock again. “Is everything OK? Did I miss a phone date?”

“No, no, everything is…” she trailed off, unsure how to tell him. “I’m in Atlanta.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to force his brain to wake up. 

“I had…” she tried to answer him, but he didn’t let her finish.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for another two months?” he asked, interrupting her explanation.

“Babe, I’m…”

“When did you get to Atlanta?” he asked, his thoughts swirling chaotically as his brain continued trying to catch up. “Why didn’t you call me when you knew you were leaving?”

“Chris, I need you to stop talking for a minute,” she told him firmly. “I had a dirty needle stick. They put me on the first cargo plane back to Atlanta.”

He stayed quiet, the gravity of her words sinking in; every nightmare he’d had while she was gone started this way to some extent.

“I’ve been exposed,” she confirmed. “I’m at Emory under quarantine.”

Chris felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. Even expecting the worst, hearing the words from her mouth still knocked the air from his lungs.

“I’m on my way,” he told her, jumping out of bed and quickly striding over to the closet, pulling out a suitcase. 

“Chris, there’s nothing you can do,” she told him, her sniffles betraying her own fear.

“Don’t care,” he replied, throwing random clothes into the bag open on the bed. 

“Chris,” her voice broke as she started to cry. “I’m so sorry. You told me this wasn’t a good idea, and I was too…”

“Katie, I promise this isn’t the time for I told you so’s,” he told her, cutting her off. “The important thing is making sure you’re safe.” 

“OK,” she responded weakly.

“Adam is my next call, alright?” he told her, referring to his assistant. “I’ll be there before lunch.”

“You really don’t have to come,” she reiterated. “You won’t even be able to be in the room with me.”

“I’m coming,” he stated firmly. “End of discussion.”

“I love you,” she said softly.

“Love you more,” he replied. “I’ll be there soon.”

By the time the sun had started to rise, Chris trotted across the tarmac at a private airfield adjacent to Logan International Airport. Adam must have pulled some major voodoo to get this flight chartered for him so quickly. He made a mental note to give him a raise.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Chris boarded the plane and handed his suitcase to the flight attendant who stood at the door.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a tight smile before taking a seat. 

He pulled out his phone and sent Kaitlyn a text letting her know he was boarded and would be there in a few hours. Sighing heavily, he scrolled through his contacts to call his mom.

“Hey, honey,” Lisa greeted brightly.

“I need you to pick up Dodger and Max and keep them for a bit,” he told her by way of greeting. “Please,” he added as an afterthought.

“Chris, what’s wrong?” she asked, concern apparent in her voice.

“Kate’s under quarantine in Atlanta,” he explained, his right knee bouncing up and down in agitation. “I’m on my way there now.”

“Is she OK? Does she have the virus?” 

She asked the questions that he was hoping she wouldn’t. 

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, closing his eyes and leaning back into the seat as the small aircraft began gaining speed before take off. “She’s being treated at Emory, they worked closely with the CDC treating the American patients from the last outbreak. Kate said before she left that if she was infected, Emory is exactly where she needs to be.”

“I’ll go and get the dogs,” she assured him, bringing the conversation back to certainties rather than unknowns.

“Thanks, Ma,” he told her, a small bit of calm washing over him knowing that at least one thing was within his control and taken care of. “I’ll call you when I know anything.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she replied. “Chris?”

“Yeah?” he opened his eyes and looked out the window to see the city disappear beneath the clouds.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

—————

“Mr. Evans,” the flight attendant’s voice startled him awake. She smiled at him a bit sheepishly. “We’ll be landing at Hartsfield-Jackson in about 15 minutes.”

“Thank you,” he told her, rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wake up. 

“Would you like me to call ahead and have a car waiting?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” he replied, taking off his ball cap to run a hand through his hair. “I’d like to go straight to Emory University Hospital.”

“Very well,” she said, turning on her heel and walking back toward the cockpit.

Chris looked down at the cap in his hands, and was surprised to see a red and blue block A rather than the Red Sox logo he was expecting. He’d grabbed one of Kaitlyn’s hats by mistake in the dark. Maybe it was for the best; perhaps it would grant him a touch more anonymity since no one would expect him to be in a University of Arizona hat.

As the plane touched down, he pulled the hat back on and pulled it down over his eyes. The flight attendant appeared with his bag, and moments later he was running toward the relief of the air conditioned town car that was idling on the tarmac.

“Mr. Evans,” the driver greeted as Chris closed the car door behind him. “I’ve been told to take you to Emory Hospital, are you sure you don’t want to stop anywhere to drop off your belongings?”

“No,” Chris replied, fastening his seatbelt. “I’m not sure what’s going on just yet, so hospital first, please.”

Chris drummed his fingers against the car door anxiously as the driver wove his way through Midtown Atlanta traffic. By the time they had pulled into the circular driveway at the main entrance, he’d begun chewing on his thumb nail. He shoved some money in the direction of the driver without really paying attention to how much he was actually giving him.

A rush of cool air greeted him as the sliding glass doors were activated on his approach.

“Hi,” he greeted the woman at the information desk. “My girlfriend is a patient, but I’m not exactly sure where I’m going.”

Spotting the suitcase, the volunteer gave a knowing smirk. “Labor and delivery?” she asked innocently.

“Oh, no!” he exclaimed, the entire thought throwing him off guard. “Um, no. Definitely not labor and delivery. Her name is Kaitlyn Molinelli.”

A few more clicks of the keyboard and the volunteer’s demeanor changed. “I’m just going to call up to the unit to see if they’re allowing visitors today.”

Tucking his suitcase to the side, Chris began to pace across the lobby. As he was about to turn in the other direction, he saw a nurse in surgical scrubs heading in his direction.

“Hey there,” she greeted a slight southern drawl lilting through her voice. “My name is Vanessa, I’ll be Kate’s nurse for the next few days.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “How is she?”

“She’s in good spirits,” Vanessa said, leading him toward the elevators that would take them up to the unit. “No sign of the virus yet in her blood, but incubation can take up to 21 days.”

Chris sighed heavily as they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind them. “What day are we on now?” he asked.

“Four,” Vanessa told him, hitting the button for the floor. “I know privacy is important here in more ways than one. The nature of our unit makes us limit visitors pretty extensively. I promise you that no press is allowed inside the unit, and no one from the staff will leak anything about her or her connection to you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “We’ve made it over a year keeping a pretty low profile, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if the press went after her now because of me on top of all of this,” he threw his hands in the air, gesturing vaguely, and indicating that ‘this’ was never part of any plan.

“I know,” she assured him, resting a hand on his forearm as the elevator dinged and the doors swooshed open. “Let us worry about _this_ ,” she said, imitating his earlier gesture. “You worry about her.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a small smile.

Vanessa nodded and led him off the elevator. “We have an anteroom set up attached to her room,” she told him, speaking over her shoulder as she moved him through the unit. “You won’t be able to touch her, but there are speakers set up so that you’ll be able to talk to each other. We can get a cot set up for you, too, if you’d like.”

“That would be great,” he agreed, coming to a stop next to her outside of a patient room. 

“She’s got a lot hooked up to her and it looks scary,” Vanessa told him as she began donning personal protective equipment. “She’s stable, though, I promise.”

Vanessa opened the door and gestured with a gloved hand from him to go ahead of her. Light reflected off of a glass wall that separated the remainder of the patient room from the anteroom.

Kaitlyn laid in the hospital bed, mindlessly going through the channels on the TV. Even from a distance, Chris could see that her skin was pale, and dark circles had formed under her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted her as Vanessa moved from the anteroom and into the patient room.

Kaitlyn’s eyes snapped over to him from the TV. She clapped a hand over her mouth and began to sob.

“Oh, Katie,” he sighed, placing a hand on the glass that separated them. “Please don’t cry,” he quietly begged her, swallowing against the lump forming in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, wiping at her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, unsure if she was apologizing for crying or everything. The monitor in the room began to alarm as her heart rate climbed over 100 beats per minute. Kaitlyn rolled her eyes and took a few deep breaths, and the alarm stopped as her heart rate returned to normal.

Vanessa quietly stood in the corner, gathering supplies for blood work. She walked over and set the supplies on the bedside table. “Just a few tubes, and I’ll give you two some time together.”

Kaitlyn rolled her eyes and stuck out her arm. “I swear, I’m going to need transfusions just because of all the lab work,” she complained, turning her face away from the needle to look at Chris.

“So the nurse becomes the patient,” he teased, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets.

“She’ll attest to the fact that I’m a horrible patient,” Kaitlyn said, bobbing her head in Vanessa’s direction. “I unhook my I.V., turn off my monitor alarms, take myself to the bathroom — ouch!” 

“Small poke,” Vanessa warned after the fact, but humor lit up her eyes behind the protective goggles she wore. 

“I like her,” Chris stated, laughing lightly.

“Traitor,” Kaitlyn scoffed in his direction, reaching over to hold pressure where Vanessa had removed the needle. 

“I’ll send these off, and Dr. Hoffman will probably want to do more PRBCs and plasma,” Vanessa told her, labeling the specimens and dropping them into a biohazard bag.

“Sounds exciting,” Kaitlyn mumbled.

“PRBCs?” Chris asked.

“Packed red blood cells,” Vanessa clarified, walking back into the anteroom. She carefully doffed the personal protective equipment and threw it in the garbage bin next to the sink. “The plasma and the blood come from the last survivors. The theory is that the antibodies they developed from their exposure is then transferred to the current patient through the transfusion.”

Chris nodded, it made sense. Kaitlyn had mentioned what the supportive treatments were before she left in an attempt to assuage his anxiety about her going.

Vanessa looked up at Kaitlyn from the sink where she was washing her hands. “Call me if you need me,” she spoke through the glass.

“I won’t,” Kaitlyn responded, a defiant smirk on her lips. 

Vanessa gave her a look that made Chris do a double take. Kaitlyn had given him the same look on more than one occasion when he said something that challenged her. Kaitlyn called it her “nurse face.” Apparently it was universal.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours with the blood,” Vanessa stated before turning to walk out of the anteroom.

When the door clicked shut, Kaitlyn kicked off the sheets and got up to walk over to the glass where Chris stood. Pulling the I.V. pole along beside her, she came to a stop once her toes touched the glass partition. She placed a hand up to the glass, and it would have rested on his heart if she were able to touch him. She leaned forward until her forehead touched the glass.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, silent tears running down her cheeks. “I should have listened to you, I shouldn’t have gone.”

“Katie, please don’t cry,” he told her, leaning forward so his own forehead was also pressed against the glass. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and then we’ll both be a mess.”

She looked up to the ceiling and nodded vigorously, sniffing loudly in an attempt to stop the tears. She wiped at her eyes and gave him a small smile.

“That’s better,” he said, returning her smile. “I’m never going to say ‘I told you so.’ What you did was brave and selfless, and now you’re going to continue to be brave and we’ll get you home soon.”

“Right,” she said to herself more than to him. “You’re right.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes echoing the concern in his voice. “Really.”

“I’m tired,” she sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve spiked fevers, but they usually break on their own. Nausea and vomiting have both been relatively controlled.”

“Those are all symptoms,” he stated rather than asked. He’d done his own share of research before she left just so that he would know what to be looking for when she called.

“They are,” she agreed, nodding her head. “There’s still no evidence of the virus in my blood, and I’m not hemorrhaging from any apparent source.”

“Then why is your nose bleeding?” Chris asked, panic spreading across his features.

“Shit,” Kaitlyn muttered, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. She turned and walked back over to the bedside table and grabbed a handful of Kleenex before pinching at her nose. “It’s fine,” she said, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her fear. “Just a nosebleed from the dry hospital air.”

“Kaitlyn,” Chris's voice came out low and warning, he was not in the mood for her to be nonchalant.

She grabbed another handful of tissues as the first bundle saturated. She bit her lip and pressed her call light. Vanessa appeared in the anteroom a few moments later.

“Her nose is bleeding,” Chris explained quickly, looking at Vanessa, fear coursing through his veins. “That seems like way too much blood for just a nosebleed.”

Vanessa placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and unclipped the Ascom phone from her scrub pants. She dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear while she began the process of getting into the personal protective equipment.

“Dr. Hoffman,” she spoke into the phone. “Patient in ICU 10 has a nosebleed, it looks like she’s been through a few handfuls of Kleenex, would you like to do silver nitrate?” She listened to his response before replying “Alright, I’ll get everything set up.” She disconnected the call and turned back to Chris. “The doctor wants to stop the bleeding with medical cautery.”

All Chris could do was nod numbly in response; he had no idea what she was talking about. “Please, just help her.”

Vanessa walked into the room and helped Kaitlyn back into bed. Dr. Hoffman entered the anteroom and nodded at Chris in greeting before putting on his own protective equipment.

Chris watched helplessly from the glass while Vanessa tilted Kaitlyn’s head back and the doctor began packing Kaitlyn’s nose. Chris began to pace in agitation as tears reformed in Kaitlyn’s eyes from the discomfort that she was feeling.

A few minutes later, Vanessa helped Kaitlyn sit back up straight, the packing remaining in her nose with a few strips of tape. “Can you breathe OK?” Vanessa asked, handing her a warm washcloth to wipe the blood from her face and hands.

Kaitlyn shrugged a shoulder. “It will get easier as I calm down.”

“I’m sure,” Vanessa reassured, rubbing Kaitlyn’s shoulder. “I’m going to get the blood, you upped our time frame just a bit.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Kaitlyn laughed weakly.

“I can’t believe you’re making jokes,” Chris muttered, arms crossed over his chest.

“My sparkling, twisted, dark sense of humor is not just _my_ best personality trait,” Kaitlyn said, smirking at him.

“It’s true,” Vanessa affirmed, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s how we cope, and we all know we’re going straight to hell.”

Chris chuckled and shook his head. “Well, as long as that’s settled.”

Vanessa exited the room and stripped off the PPE. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, walking out of the anteroom and back onto the unit.

“You doing OK over there, sweetheart?” Chris asked, pulling a chair up to the glass barrier and sitting down. 

“I guess,” she replied, leaning back and closing her eyes. “That hat looks good on you, by the way.”

“Yeah, well, it was hard to tell them all apart in the dark,” he chuckled lightly, removing the hat and rubbing at his head.

“You should go get something to eat,” she told him. “Maybe bring me back some soup?”

“Sure thing,” he said, standing back up. “Do you want anything else?” 

“Ginger ale, please,” she responded, wiggling back down under the blankets, giving him her first real smile since he got there.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, pressing his lips to his fingers and pressing his fingers to the glass.

After the door shut behind Chris’s back, Kaitlyn grabbed the basin on the bedside table and wretched into it. 

The vomit was tinged with blood.

As Kaitlyn got up to dump the contents of the basin in the bathroom, she prayed it was related to the blood she’d swallowed from the nosebleed rather than the virus rearing its ugly head.

—————

Kaitlyn tossed and turned in the hospital bed. While better than the thin mattress she’d had in Sierra Leone, it wasn’t the adjustable mattress she slept on at home. She looked over to where Chris was sleeping on a cot in the anteroom. She’d been in the hospital for just over two weeks now. There was still no sign of the virus in her blood, and everyone was starting to become cautiously optimistic that she’d dodged a bullet.

Chris moaned in his sleep, his arms curling around himself to protect him from whatever it was he was dreaming about.

“No,” he moaned, his brow furrowing in his sleep. “Please don’t leave me, Katie.”

At the sound of her name, Kaitlyn sat upright. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and got up, grateful that the night shift nurse hadn’t turned on the bed alarm.

“Kate!” he shouted in his sleep as Kaitlyn made it to the glass.

“Chris,” she called out, not raising her voice too loud in fear of startling him too much.

He groaned again in his sleep, beginning to move more violently as the nightmare fully took hold. 

“Chris!” she raised her voice a bit and slapped a hand against the glass.

He shook himself awake and sat upright. He looked around quickly with wide, round eyes. His eyes eventually found her and his body visibly relaxed.

“Where did you go?” she whispered, sinking to her knees, but keeping her hand pressed to the glass. Even though they were only separated by a few inches of glass, she’d never felt more alone or farther away from him. Coming down to the floor at least allowed her to make eye contact with him, which allowed her to feel some sort of connection.

“You were dying,” he said softly. “It was like Abby, chest compressions and blood; there was so much blood.”

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, pressing her hand harder to the glass, wishing more than anything that she could hold him. “I’m right here.”

“I know, I know,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “It just felt so real.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this,” she said, looking down at her lap. 

“Hey,” he said, tapping the glass behind her hand to get her attention. “We’ve been over this. None of this is your fault. You were saving lives, and you experienced an occupational hazard. I’m proud of you.”

“The more you say that, the guiltier I feel,” she said, smiling ruefully and shaking her head.

“Please don’t,” he told her, sitting up to sit on the edge of the cot. “I just don’t think I’ve ever been this scared before.”

“Me either,” she agreed, looking back up at him.

“There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, right?” he said, giving her a crooked smile.

“Right,” she agreed, her smile widening. “God, I just wish I could touch you. I’m dying without physical contact in here.”

“Five more days, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “But I get it; I officially sleep worse without you next to me.”

Kaitlyn blushed as she moved to rest her weight on her butt rather than her knees, her side pressing into the glass. “Maybe that’s my problem,” she wondered out loud. “It’s not the bed I miss, it’s you.”

“Let’s go with that second one,” he said, his grin broadening. “It’s better for my ego.”

“Please,” Kaitlyn scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You are one of the least ego driven people I know.”

“I don’t know,” he challenged, shaking his head slightly. “There’s just something about you, sweetheart.”

“Well, you’re certainly a smooth talker,” she laughed, standing back up. “I have an idea.”

She walked back over to the hospital bed, and reached around behind it to unplug it. Flipping off the brake, she began to steer the bed over toward the glass wall that separated them.

“What are you doing?” Chris asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Trying to fix our problem while remaining within quarantine,” she explained, grunting a bit as the bed didn’t move the way she wanted it to. Eventually, she got one side flush against the wall.

Catching on, Chris got up and pushed his cot against the glass so that their beds would be pressed together if it weren’t for the wall between them. Kaitlyn beamed at him in response before crawling back into bed, laying on her side so that she faced him. Chris followed suit, laying on his side and pressing a hand against the glass. Kaitlyn reached out and pressed her hand against his.

“This will do,” she whispered, scooting over so that she was closer. “For now.”

“How did I get so lucky to have such a brilliant, compassionate, and beautiful girlfriend?” he asked, smiling at her. 

“I must have set my standards super low that day,” she laughed.

“Ouch,” he responded, laughing along with her. “Get some rest, silly girl.”

“You too,” she told him softly. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” he replied, tucking an arm under his pillow.

—————

“You ready for some good news, Ms. Molinelli?” Dr. Hoffman asked, walking into her room without personal protective equipment.

Kaitlyn’s eyes lit up, and she quickly looked over to find Chris through the glass.

“I need to hear you say it,” she said, rising to stand alongside the doctor.

“It’s been 23 days since your exposure,” Dr. Hoffman began, folding his hands in front of him. “You have no evidence of disease.”

Kaitlyn squealed and threw her arms around the doctor’s neck. “Thank you,” she said, stepping back away from him. “Thank you so, so much for everything.” 

“Do you think I could get in on this love fest?” Chris asked, hesitantly walking into the room behind Dr. Hoffman.

“I’m clear!” she screeched, running and jumping into Chris’s waiting arms. 

He held her tight as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Chris dropped his forehead to rest where her neck met her shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“You smell like a hospital,” he mumbled against her neck, causing her to throw her head back and laugh. 

“Not all of us were allowed to leave and take a real shower,” she reminded him, wiggling down out of his arms.

Chris took her face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ve been dying to do that for three weeks,” he said, pulling back to smile at her. He looked up at Dr. Hoffman who had a wistful smile on his face.

“You two remind me of my wife and I when we were younger,” he offered.

“Thank you for everything,” Chris said, reaching out to shake the doctor’s hand while pulling Kaitlyn close with the other arm. “So, umm…” Chris trailed off a bit before finding his nerve again. “Sex? We’re OK…”

“Oh my _god_ , Christopher!” Kaitlyn shrieked, her cheeks turning flaming red before she stepped behind Chris to hide her embarrassment.

“You guys should be fine,” Dr. Hoffman laughed. “There’s no chance of spreading something that isn’t there.”

“See?” Chris asked, looking over his shoulder where Kaitlyn still had her face hidden between his shoulder blades. “It was a legitimate question.”

“I hate you,” was her muffled reply.

She peeked back around Chris’s shoulder to look at Dr. Hoffman. “When can I go home?”

“We can get you discharged this afternoon,” he replied, looking down at his watch. “I want you to stay in Atlanta for another couple weeks, just so we can observe you, test for antibodies, and collect your blood if you have the antibodies.”

“I will stay in Atlanta for as long as you like,” she said, coming back out from behind Chris. “As long as I get to leave this room.”

“I guess I better go get the paperwork started then,” he said, reaching out to shake both of their hands again. “Take care of yourselves.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hoffman,” Kaitlyn said again while watching the doctor leave the room. This time there were no doors sealing the exits.

She looked back up at Chris and beamed. He returned her smile, bending forward to wrap his arms back around her waist and pull her close. Kaitlyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her off her feet, her legs, once again, wrapping around his hips, her ankles crossing at his lower back.

Chris gently brushed hair away from her face before reaching up to press his lips to hers. He started off soft and gentle before he deepened the kiss, one hand pressing between her shoulder blades to bring her closer. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip once more before reluctantly pulling away. His usually bright eyes had darkened with arousal, but also reflected love and promise.

“I fully intend on keeping you naked and satisfied for at least 24 hours,” he promised, his voice coming out as a deep rumble she felt pass through her chest.

“Shower first,” she countered, leaning forward to press a quick, gentle kiss to his lips.

“Together,” he replied, pressing his forehead against hers when she began running her fingers through his hair.

“Deal,” she agreed before burying her face in his neck and wrapping her arms and legs tighter around him.

Neither of them had any intention of letting go.


End file.
